LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume IX, Issue 1224, 5 February 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

FABMER POMEROY'S LEGACY. London Society. {Concluded.) ' College tradesmen are mostly sharks. I don't feel much sorrow at the thought |of having fleeced them; they took all the advantage they could of my being young and green. There was one exception, though ; a little confectioner that lived opposite the lodge of St. Julian's, who used to supply us with things we could not get in college for our wine parties and such like. He was honest enough : a meek kind of struggling man, not with much busine°s head, but with a large family. I saw in a paper I took up one day, years after, in the parlour of the Bell, at Tiverton, he had failed. If I tell you what I owed him, perhaps you cau say what it would amount up to with interest: it is fifty years back.' 4 Yes, 1 could easily calculate that.' ' Ab, I thought so. The sums some of the gentlemen used to do in their heads ! I never had a turn for figures. Wei', I've scraped together about five thousand pounds. I have made a will leaving it to you if you will pay out of it the debt and interest I owe to the pastrycook.' * To me ! I have no claim on you,' interrupted Felix Onslow, in astonishment. 'You had better employ some lawyer to settle the debt, and leave the rest to your nearest relative.' ' You have as much claim on me as any other man now living on the face of the earth,' said Farmer Pomeroy emphatically. 'And I have told you I put no faith in lawyers : they're boastly raskills. Who's to see the money paid, and what am I to do with tho rest of my savings, if you refuse to help me?' His tone sank to petulant (juerulousness,

' You'll earn the money,' he urged. ' It's fifty years ago, and you'll have trouble enough calculating it all, and looking for the parties. I've got all the bills and the address of the old shop in Market street.' Felix Onslow debated within himself what answer he should make to this extraordinary request. The old man watched him eagerly while he deliberated : not to win Kate would he stoop to any shadow of injustice. 'I may consent,' he said, 'if you can assure me solemnly that I am not coming before any one that has more right to your money than I have' • I will swear it on my Bible oath,' asseverated Farmer Pomeroy. Felix Onslow got up to take his farewell; as he did so he looked searchingly at the gaunt old figure in the armchair. It was not a frame which ought to have succumbed at the appointed age of man : its powerful outline, the keen quick glance of the still bright blue eye, the undimmed clearness of intelleot, all seemed to indicate that death might be far off. ' You will not leave me without promising cutright to do as I ask you, Mr Onslow,' cried Farmer Pomeroy, retaining the young man's hand with a painful pressure. 'lf we do not justice, who can say if we shall have mercy ?' JHis glance, his tone, were piteously urgent. Felix Onslow gave the required promise. •He may live for years; he may change his mind ten times before he dies,' thought the curate, as he walked home. But the next morning found him bound by a pledge to a dead man —Farmer Pomeroy, stern and enduring to the last, had died at daybreak in his chair.

His will was found to embody the strange bequest he had made; and the search for descendants of the bankrupt confectioner was duly made. Felix Onslow traced him from Cambridge to London ; but amid the vortex of the metropolis all further trace was lost. Advertisements in all the leading London and country papers failed either to elucidate his fate, or to find relatives with any claim on the savings of Farmer Pomeroy. Fe'ix Onslow resolved not to touch the fee if he could not do the work ; and it appeared likely that the old man's hoard would lie as idle after his death as it had always done while in his own hands. Chapter IV. Annie's love story. Either leas than half a year after Father Pomeroy's death a Bplendid Chiistmas eve gave promise of a genuine old-fashioned Christmas day. It was bright, clear, and cold ; a hard frost had set in a week before, an 1 it was still freezing hard as Kate Onslow, warmly clad ia the most becoming of furedged winter costumes, descended the High street of Cliffe. Pretty and piquant were face and figure ; light the step, instinct with heart-gladness at the thought that the railway was even then swiftly bearing a certain parson-cousin to his betrothed. Felix was sadly out of spirits at the thought that their marriage must be deterred. Kate, girl-like, was happy enough now in the kuowledge that they were about to spend a whole week together. Beaching Annie Astry's house, Kate stopped and knocked, then lifting the lttch, according to her habit—so friendly had the rector's daughter and the schoolmistress become— Bhe opened the door and f-ntered. Expecting to see Annie cheerfully preparing tea, and Alice sitting at the bright hearth. Miss Onslow was surprised to find the elder sister alone, and seated in a despondent attitude, her head drooped, her countenance dejected; tears evidently very near her eyes 'What is the matter, Annie? Is Alice ill ?' cried Kate hastily. No; Alice had just gone in to spend an hour with Grace Eilis, next door. Nothing particular was the matter. Annie thanked Miss Onslow. • Nonsense: and you sitting here alone half crying, and that on Christmas Eve! Why, Annie, only think of to morrow, and the crowded church, and our choral service ! My prima donna mustn't injure her voice by crying to-night.' Dashing away a few rebellious tears that would fall, Annie tried resolutely to master herself. Bat it would not do ; and Katie drew from her the cause of her grief. Mr Archer had that day proposed to her; she had rejected him, although she liked him—her downcast eyes and crimson cheeks showed she might have used a warmer word without exaggeration - because she would not bring hei self and Alice to be a burden on any man. ' Is that all ?' cried Kate buoyantly, when she had heard everything. ' All! Is it not enough ?' asked Annie Astry, smiling, despite herself, amid her tears. ' I mean all your reason for refusing a man you—like !' answered Kate, imitating exactly her hesitating intonation. ' You will seo Mr Archer to-morrow. Unsay your refusal, and trust to time. Why, 1 have been engaged for five years, and may be engaged for five years more ! Courage, Annie, time will work wonders both for you and me.' The shoolmistresß shook her head d«spairingly. ' You were seventeen when you were engaged, Miss Onslow. I am four-and-twenty already And time does nothing for such as we. We are as weU off at thirty as at sixty—better often. You know it would be madness for us to marry on Mr Archer's salary of ninety pounds a year ; it would only be bringing Alice and myself to weigh him down with care and troubles. I like my teaching, and am eager to work: but yon know I could not keep my situation as a married woman. And even if Mr Archer would leave Cliffe, how could he get anything more lucrative ? He has neither money nor interest, or he would never have chosen his present life. No, I made up my mind long ago that marriage was not for me. I am a fool to have let myself care for any one.' .She had poured out her reasons in a rapid miserable voice. Kate heard her without interruption When she had finished, the ref tor's daughter spoke : ' All this may be very true, Annie,' she said kindly. * Nevertheless, still have faith —wait and hope. Why not even learn a little music, and teach sin.-ing in course of time? 0, there will be twenty ways of managing I I almost wish Felix and myself were in your places ; it would be so delightful to have to work very hard for him !' Annie could not contradict auguries so kindly spoken; but she sighed deeply, although the falling tears stinted their flow at Kate's kind words. • I will speak to Mr Onslow and my cousin, Annie,' pursued Kate. ' My father has many friends, and so has Felix. What would Mr Archer have chosen to be ?' I A surveyor. He has great talents for that line of business, and he has an uncle in a very flourishing positi n as a builder and surveyor. But he is a hard man, and exexpects the same premium from a nephew as from a Blranger.' • What is that ?' ' Two hundred pounds,' said Annie, in a hopeless tone. Kate saw the real difficulty of the position, but she would not acknowlekge it to be in any degree hopeless. Before she left the smiles had begun to dawn again, though fitfully, on Annie's cheek ; for although she had tried and i roved all the bitterness of poverty, Kate's hopeful spirit cheered her, and she was able to enter with her usual hearty zest into some question concerning the Btrvice of the morrow which Kate had come to discuss. An hour afterwards, when Miss Cuslow had gone home, a low but well known knock at the door startled the schoolmistress. Mr Archer stood without; the face which Annie had learnt to like so well for its pleasant charm of sense and amiability smiled tenderly. '1 met Miss Onslow half an hour ago Annie,' he said. 'She invited me to tea here with you.' CHAPTEP V. FELIX ONSLOW AS DKUS EX MAI'IONA. Mr Onslow had asked bis nephew to take his place on the Christmas morning, which dawned bright, keen, and frosty, the sky serenely blue. JSven, the Reverend Je]^

Onslow, though given to the pssthetioa ef churchmanship, pronounced the decorations, to Kate's delight, to be perfect of their kind. But his experience led him to have doubts as to the fulfilment of her promise of a choir as good as the one he had so often boasted of at Gatcombe.

Kate certainly played the voluntary very well. The Reverend Felix Onslow, seated in the reading desk, determined that she at least deserved much credit; the * Venite,' even though the singers were a little nervous, made him tremble for the honour of his Devonshire choristers The Psalms and the 'Te Deum' were well and reverently sungj to chants. Felix could not suppress a, passing suspicion that the anthem would be the testing point, likely to show weakness at some more difficult passage. The anthem proved to be a simple one—Goss's ' Behold, I bring you good tidings'—but one which gave full scope for the tenor and soprano of the school* master and schoolmistress ; and both out did themselves, singing with a purity, an exprcssion, a devotion alike rare and solemn in the extreme. Kate turned round delightedly as she relinquished her lingering pressure of the last chords. The children, perfectly drilled, had supported her splendidly. Triumph of triumphs ! In his sermon the Reverend Felix Onslow made a passing extemporaneous allusion to the solemnising and devotional effect of a devont musical service, such as they had heard that day.

* # * # # ' Were we quite as good »a St. Cross, Felix 1' asked Kate Onslow, as the cousins walked home together. ' Nearly,' he said, with a teasing smile. ' But seriously, Rate, I have seldom heard a voice like your schoolmistress's. Who is she, and where does she come from? Has she had professional teaching ?' * Only the regular training. Her name is Astry-' Mr Onslow cut her short with an exclamation of surprise. • ' Astry I Perhaps it may be the very person ! K ate, I have been seeking for people of that name for weeks past, and without success.'

The story was soon told, and Kate's enthusiastic assistance soon ascertained all necessary particulars. Our reader* will guees the rest. The money was a godsend, helping Felix to settle, and Mr Areber to join his uncle. Farmer Pomeroy's Legacy thus led to the speedy marriages of the rector's daughter and the schoolmistress.